


Communicate

by WakeUpDreaming



Category: Scorpion (TV 2014)
Genre: Communication Failure, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Getting Together, Guns, Mission Fic, Undercover, awkward moments
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-30
Updated: 2015-12-30
Packaged: 2018-05-10 07:38:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5577022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WakeUpDreaming/pseuds/WakeUpDreaming
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>During a particularly boring mission, Happy and Paige forget the coms are on while chatting. That's when things get a little interesting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Communicate

**Author's Note:**

> This is technically a prequel to Flirting with Jealousy, and it is also a fill to the tumblr prompt "Quintis prompt in which Happy is undercover and reveals how she feels about Toby and forgets that they are on coms and he can hear everything she is saying." It's also for Jaimee ofmindandmagic, who requested I write the prequel!

They’ve been waiting in the department store for two full hours. Happy can work upside down in a car for an entire afternoon, but this is ridiculous. She’s had to fake way too much knowledge about jewelry tastes with three different customers. She's not cut out for this.

“This is terrible,” Happy says. “Shopping is bad enough," she adds, spinning the earring carousel, "but now I have to do the other end of it.”

“What, customer service?” Paige asks, looking far more the part of a store clerk than Happy. She looks at home in the black dress pants and floaty blue blouse, whereas Happy's just feels a little awkward in the sweater dress that only hits mid thigh. 

Happy nods. “Three women have asked me advice on their earrings. Do I have any background on this? Not really. I just know what earrings I like.” She directs her next comment to those listening in on the coms. "I was the worst choice for this, by the way."

“Yours are cute, by the way,” Paige says. “Earrings, I mean."

Happy reaches up to touch them, unsure of which she's wearing. "Thanks," she replies. They might be the wrench earrings. She's not sure.

"But I understand how your style may not translate to people who like, you know,” Paige's gesturing gets a little flaily, “girly stuff.”

“I like some girly stuff,” Happy says. “Just not jewelry that looks like a seven year old’s dress up clothes.”

“I see your point,” Paige says. “Where exactly do you get your jewelry?”

Happy grins at her. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

“Not going to touch that,” says Paige. A woman walks over to them, and immediately gravitates toward Paige.

“Ma’am?” she says. “I’m looking for a nice gift for my fifteen year old granddaughter.”

Happy figures out, after fifteen more people between herself and Paige and another hour, that she can accurately predict what piece of jewelry the customer will pick after a brief description.

“It’s weird,” she says to Paige after a woman buying earrings for a wedding leaves. “I think Toby’s rubbing off on me.”

Paige turns to her with this questionable little grin on her face. “Or maybe he should be rubbing off on you, if you know what I mean.”

“Oh my god,” Happy, says, turning away from her. “I can’t believe you just said that.”

“Couldn’t help myself,” says Paige. “This retail business is bringing me back to my waitressing days. I’m getting flashbacks.”

Happy leans against the counter. “You think this is ever going somewhere?” she asks.

“You and Toby?” Paige asks. “Of course. One of you just needs to make the first move.”

Happy stares at her. “I was talking about the job,” Happy says.

“And I’m talking about you and Toby. You know what you’re going to do about this?” Paige asks, nudging Happy.

Happy shrugs. “About what in particular?”

“The fact that you guys definitely have feelings for each other, and there's been zero progress,” she replies.

“Oh, you’re one to talk,” Happy says. “You and Walter have been dodging things for, what, a year now?”

Paige shrugs. “We both need to get our acts together.”

Happy turns back to the earring rack in front of her, spinning it absent mindedly. “Not sure how,” Happy admits. “I mean, I do. Have feelings.” She feels so awkward, like a teenager, as she’s speaking. “For Toby, I mean. I just don’t know what to do about it.”

“At least Toby’s told you,” says Paige, sounding frustrated. “I feel like I’m just waiting for Walter to make sense of his own emotions.” She sighs. “I don’t have feelings,” Paige says in a tone that’s clearly supposed to be Walter.

Happy laughs. “You’ve got a point there.”

“You should make the move,” Paige says. “I think Toby would appreciate it.”

“If he won’t, I guess I have to,” says Happy. “And I will. Soon.”

There’s a long pause. And then – “You do know we’re on coms, right?” It’s Walter’s voice.

Happy and Paige stare at each other, and Happy’s pretty sure the horrified expression on Paige’s face is mirrored on hers.

Happy reaches up and pulls the com out, setting it on the table.

“Not good,” she says.

“You could say that again,” Paige says, setting her com next to Happy. “The hell are we going to do?”

“Run away and move to Sweden?” Happy suggests.

They hear garbled, quiet talking from the coms on the table.

"Can I step on them?" Happy asks. "Just the coms. Not the people."

"I'm not going to say yes," says Paige, looking at the devices like they are poisonous snakes, "but I won't say no."

It’s in the exact moment that Darius Briem, the heist director, walks in.

“Oh, shit,” says Happy, scrambling to shove the com back in. “Target sighted. Making his way to the jewelry counter.” She grabs Paige’s com and puts it in her hand. “And he’s definitely packing. Look at his ankle.”

"Look at his waist," Paige adds. Sure enough, there's a gun-shaped bulge at his waist.

“Roger that,” says Cabe, “we’ll move into position.”

The embarrassment burns off into adrenaline as Paige and Happy try to cool off and act like unsuspecting civilians.

“You’re okay, Paige, we’ve got this,” says Happy into the coms.

Of course, Briem comes to Happy.

He tries on a winning smile, something that might have charmed a normal salesperson, so Happy tries her hand at beaming back at him.

“Good afternoon, sir,” she says. “What can I do for you?”

The smile is still on his lips when he pulls out the gun and says, “You do not have cameras. You do not have backup. I’ve fried all of the security options, including that emergency button I know you’re about to reach for.” The grin never leaves his face. “Give me all the jewelry in the case before I put a bullet in your stomach.”

Happy’s smile turns from fake to real with a little venom in it. “God, I’m glad you said that.”

It confuses him just enough to give Happy time to move.

Happy vaults over the counter and slams his hand down onto the glass, driving her boots into his chest until they land on the ground. Briem’s expression is of complete surprise.

“See, we had a whole thing in place,” says Happy, bending down to disarm the gun at his ankle while keeping her foot on his arm. “We were supposed to have time to call in our people, work our plan, but then you come in here with a gun and piss me off. So I had to go the low tech route.” She looks down at him. "And your ribs are going to bruise."

“I still have my other gun,” Briem says, glaring up at her.

“Yeah, but my foot is on your wrist and I’ll be impressed if you can move your hand with my heel digging into your tendons.”

Sure enough, Briem can’t move his fingers, let alone shift his hand to reach the trigger.

Happy just stares down at him. “Doc, thanks for that anatomy lesson the other day.”

Cabe comes in and flashes his Homeland badge, ensuring that everyone else backs off, and Toby kicks the gun out of Briem’s hand as he helps Happy up. She lets him. She’s not sure why.

“Is it weird that I’m really impressed with how you took down a 200 pound guy while wearing heels?” Toby asks, watching as Cabe carts the international criminal away. “Because I’m impressed.”

Happy shrugs. “No,” she decides. “I’m pretty damn impressive.”

“You really are,” says Toby. There’s no sense of laughter or banter in his tone, and Happy suddenly realizes just how real this is all about to get.

“So,” she says, and she ends up flailing awkwardly when she realizes the black sweater dress has no pockets to hide her hands in. She settles for folding her arms across her chest. “Time to go?”

Toby nods. “Nothing left for us to do.”

They’re in the car for five minutes before Toby goes back to the topic.

“So,” says Toby, “you said you liked me.”

“Are we doing this now?” Happy says, and she only sort of sounds like she’s whining.

“Recent studies have suggested that, when connecting with people who struggle to communicate their emotions, a good time to bring up difficult topics is when driving.”

“Unless I drive us into a tree,” Happy grumbles.

Toby’s quiet, and finally Happy glances over at him. “You gonna talk or what?”

“Sorry,” says Toby. “Sorry. Didn’t want to,” he fidgets in his seat, “overstep.”

“Yeah, well, you heard everything over coms. Not like there’s anything to overstep,” Happy says. She feels awkward and uncomfortable, and can’t figure out anything else to say.

Luckily the drive is short and Toby puts on the radio. Unfortunately, the radio has a sense of humor today and has it on a bunch of stupid love songs. Happy feels particularly uncomfortable when _Love Me Like You_ comes on right after _Good For You._ It's bad enough that she makes things awkward. Now the radio has to make things all romantic and sexy. Damn Toby and his top 40 interests.

When they park in front of Toby’s apartment, he doesn’t open the door.

“So, I think we should probably talk about this,” Toby says after a few moments of silence.

Happy sighs. “Yep,” she says, staring straight ahead.

“I have beers in my fridge,” Toby offers.

“That’ll make this loads easier,” Happy says, kicking the car door open.

They stand awkwardly in the kitchen as they drink, Happy waiting for courage to rise. It doesn't seem to be on its way any time soon. And Toby’s beer is terrible.

“Do I start talking?” Toby asks. “Because I can start talking if you want me to.”

“I don’t need you to talk,” Happy says. “I really don’t need you to talk.”

Toby nods, and keeps silent. The quiet starts to fill the room like poison and Happy’s getting so anxious and so annoyed at the fact that she can’t speak that she starts pacing.

“So here’s the thing,” Happy says, taking another swig of beer. Empty. Great. “You know how I feel. And I don’t want to say it again.”

Toby nods. Thank god he's still quiet, but the nodding is making him look like a bobble head.

“And I think I know how you feel,” she turns to him, gesturing with the bottle. “Am I right?”

“Depends on how you think I feel,” Toby says. He takes another sip, his eyes locked on Happy’s.

Happy swallows. “Well, you know,” she says, pretending there’s something still in the bottle so she can have something to do with her hands. “You’ve almost said it, I don’t know how many times. A lot. I think I know."

Toby shrugs. “Do you want me to say it?”

Happy stops and looks at him. “Do you want to say it?”

Toby sets down the bottle and walks toward her. “I’m in love with you,” he says, “powerfully, painfully in love with you.”

“Stop quoting Buffy,” Happy says, her eyes flickering from his eyes to his lips.

“Damn,” Toby says, his laughter stuttering and catching in his chest, “thought that might work.”

Happy swallows. “Well, regardless if it's a nerd quote," she says, and he steps even closer to her, "is it true?”

“Yes,” Toby says. His voice is quiet and honest, and he’s looking at her with such intensity that it’s damn close to being too much.

“Okay,” says Happy, and she makes a decision in that moment. She grabs Toby by the front of the shirt and walks them backward, throwing him down on the couch. “I guess this means you’re my boyfriend now.” She settles on his lap, straddling his hips. Like an automatic response, Toby’s hands weave into her hair as she kisses him. She can’t get close enough to him, can’t feel enough of him. Happy breaks away for a half second and leans back on the couch, pulling him down on top of her. Their legs tangle as she shifts and Toby’s arm goes around her back to hold her so close to him that she can hardly handle it. Happy moans against his lips as her hands go for his hair.

The anticipation of this moment nearly killed her over the past few years, and the near misses and the no-wait-not-yets flood out of her like poison. All they have is now to worry about, this very moment, and, shit, Happy’s leg is going numb.

When she tries to shift them so her leg isn’t bent underneath her, they fall off the couch. Happy lands right on top of Toby’s chest.

“It’s a good thing you’re tiny,” Toby says, sounding a little pained.

Happy shifts to her knees. “Sorry,” she replies. She takes a look at her elbow. Rug burn - but it's worth it.

"Can I ask something?" Toby asks, propping himself up on his elbows.

Happy shrugs. "I mean, if you have to." But she adds a smile.

“Did you just decide I’m your boyfriend?” Toby asks. “While throwing me onto my own couch? I’m not complaining. I just want to clarify because it all happened really fast.”

Happy shrugs. “Apparently,” she replies. “Are you going to keep talking?”

He sits up, and they’re nose to nose. “Should I keep talking?”

“No way,” Happy says. And she kisses him again.


End file.
